


Let me massage you

by xJane



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: 3.5k of massage porn, Friends to Lovers, M/M, don't blame me I don't even like massages, literally no plot whatsoever, pining eliott
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:34:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26143432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xJane/pseuds/xJane
Summary: Someone wanted a detailed description of an Elu massage. This is it, with a tiny bit of friends to lovers in between.
Relationships: Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant
Comments: 29
Kudos: 130





	Let me massage you

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like it, [Natalie19h34](/users/Natalie19h34/), because damn.

“Why am I doing this again?”

Eliott stopped setting up his camera and lights and turned to Lucas, who was eying him warily. On the floor, a pile of colourful pillows was spread out to form a makeshift mattress. Lucas kicked against a yellow one and sent it flying away. Eliott sighed and retrieved it, carefully putting it back in position.

“Don’t mess with the pillows, Lucas, unless you want to lay down on the cold floor,” he warned, returning to adjusting his tripod.

“I’m serious, Eliott. Why are we even doing this?”

“I told you, Lucas,” he said patiently. “My followers challenged me to learn how to massage and post a video of the results.”

“That explains why _you_ are doing this,” Lucas pouted.

“Well, I can hardly massage myself, can I?”

Lucas didn’t answer. He still looked at the pillows as if they were going to bite him. Eliott stopped measuring the light for a second. He did wonder why Lucas had so easily agreed to this. Before he could get too deep into that thought, though, he saw Lucas picking up one of the books on massage techniques Eliott had bought to prepare for this. Lucas leafed through it, a frown on his face.

“Don’t worry too much. I already practiced a bunch. Sofiane said it felt good, and so did Manon. Idriss of course complained he had muscle aches for days, but that was probably just Idriss being a dick, and even if it was, I learned a lot since.”

Lucas put the book back carefully.

“If Manon and Sofiane are such big fans, why aren’t they here to subject themselves to this, huh?”

“We’ve been over this, Lucas. They weren’t comfortable being on camera.”

Lucas sighed deeply.

“What makes you think I am?”, he muttered, quietly. Eliott wasn’t sure he had been supposed to hear it, so he didn’t answer, but his earlier speculations about why Lucas had said yes came back in full force. He hadn’t even had to do much convincing, if he recalled correctly. He’d basically just said he needed someone to give a back rub to for his channel, and Lucas had nonchalantly agreed pretty much immediately.

Eliott knew only too fucking well why he had asked Lucas to appear in this video. And it wasn’t just because Lucas’ gorgeous face was bound to bring in loads of new followers.

Eliott fidgeted some more with the set-up, moved the pillows slightly, checked the microphones again.

He was nervous, he realized.

Not about the challenge. He could probably fail horribly at that and his followers would still love the fact that he tried.

And not even about the massage either. He hadn’t lied about Sofiane and Manon being enthusiastic about his newfound skills.

But this was different. This was Lucas.

Lucas, who’d been his best friend ever since he ended up at the former’s high school for his second go at the bac. He was even closer to Lucas now than to Idriss or Sofiane, although he would never say that out loud to either one of them. He felt like Lucas understood him without explanation.

The first time he’d had to stay away from his new school for a few days, somebody somehow had found out about his mental illness and had let it slip. When he returned, he’d heard whispers follow him everywhere, until Lucas had stood up in the middle of the lunch hall and sat down next to him. It had startled him. He’d seen Lucas before with his friends, laughing loudly and boisterously, and he’d wondered about the beautiful boy, but that day, he’d been calm and quiet. He’d started telling Eliott about his mother, who was in a hospital being treated for schizophrenia. Only at that point had Eliott put two and two together and realized what the whispers were about. Either way, Lucas had made a point of sitting with him the next few days, and his friends had come over too, and before long Eliott had found a whole little family to hang out with. But Lucas had always remained the most important. It was Lucas he called when he had an episode. It was Lucas he celebrated his bac with, and then his acceptance into Paris College of Arts. It was Lucas he invited to his exhibitions and screenings. It was Lucas he took with him when he went tagging, sometimes.

It was also Lucas he had taken to the Petite Ceinture one night, sharing his refuge with Lucas, the only person he trusted enough with it. It was Lucas he wrote all his movie scripts for and about, and it was Lucas whose face he drew when he couldn’t sleep at night. It was because of Lucas he’d done study after study of blue, trying to capture the way light reflected in Lucas’ eyes. It was Lucas he was in love with – not that Lucas would ever find out, of course…

He looked at him surreptitiously. Lucas seemed nervous too, he realized, as he saw him fiddling with the hem of his shirt, walking around the pillows in small circles.

He scraped his throat.

“Uhm, I’m ready to begin, if you want.”

Lucas startled.

“Oh, uh, okay. Don’t you have to film an introduction or something first?”

Lucas had seen enough of Eliott’s videos to recognize the basic structure of how these challenges usually went.

“Yeah, I already did that, though. Today we’ll just tape me massaging you and then I’ll edit it all together.”

“Oh.”

Lucas seemed a bit taken aback by that.

“You ready? You want a drink before we start or something?”, Eliott asked, suddenly feeling the furthest from ready himself.

Lucas shook his head.

“No, let’s get this over with.” He sounded determined. “Where do you want me?”

Eliott felt his heart beat faster at those words. He was suddenly sad the camera didn’t run yet, because he wanted to listen to those five words on repeat, imagining them to be said in a different setting.

“Uhm, I figured you could lay prone on the pillows…”

Lucas nodded and complied hesitantly, kneeling down near the heap and awkwardly positioning himself on top of it.

“Uh, Lucas… I’m gonna need you to take off your shirt.”

Lucas froze mid-movement.

“Ah, yeah, of course,” he stuttered self-consciously. “Stupid of me to forget.”

Eliott thought he saw a faint blush creeping up on Lucas’ cheeks, but he chalked it up to Lucas feeling dumb. It wasn’t like they’d never been shirtless around each other before.

While Lucas manoeuvred himself into a sitting position again, Eliott turned the camera on.

When he looked up, Lucas had lifted his arms, pulling his shirt off over his head. For a few seconds, Eliott had a glorious view of Lucas’ chest, his pecs, his abs – and then he threw the shirt aside and Eliott quickly averted his gaze.

Shit, this was going to be even harder than he had imagined.

Lucas shuffled around on the pillows again, trying to get comfortable, folding his arms under his head, resting his cheek on his hand.

He lifted his head slightly to look up at Eliott, who was inspecting the view through the lens to see if everything he needed would be captured in the frame. He almost got a heart attack when Lucas’ face appeared, framed perfectly, his dark hair a bit tousled from taking his shirt off, his lips red and full, and his eyes bigger and bluer than the sea. God and all his angels be damned. If he used a still of this exact frame as the main picture for this video, he’d gain hundreds of followers in minutes, he thought.

“Okay like this?”, Lucas asked, and Eliott was brought back to the task at hand. Okay didn’t even come close, he mused. Pure perfection was better suited to the view Lucas presented.

Eliott made a show of looking through the lens again, adjusting the light just a fraction, even though he already knew that Lucas was just flawless. He had put his head down on his arms again, showing a sort of half profile to the camera, his eyes still visible.

“Yeah, you’re fine,” he said, trying to sound matter-of-factly.

“Do you need to talk while you’re doing it?”, Lucas asked. “Or could we listen to some music, maybe?”

Eliott pondered. He could always do a voice-over later, but he wanted to capture Lucas’ reactions.

“Uh, yeah, I’ll need to get the sound. So no music, sorry.”

Lucas shrugged.

“Okay.”

Right. There was nothing more to be done.

Eliott came out from his hiding place behind the camera, and moved around Lucas’ lying figure. Lucas followed his movements with his eyes, until Eliott walked out of his line of sight and he closed them, taking a deep breath. Eliott did the same. He stood at Lucas’ feet, and he knew this had been a stupendously bad idea.

His eyes roamed from Lucas’ socked feet over his calves, clearly outlined in the soft sweatpants Lucas was wearing, up over his thighs to his ass. The old sweatpants moulded around Lucas’ body perfectly, and the soft fabric did not leave a lot to the imagination. The loose elastic had slipped down a bit, showing off the waistband of Lucas’ boxers. Eliott swallowed.

His eyes lingered on the swell of Lucas’ ass, that thin band of his boxers, the sliver of lighter coloured skin, where Lucas’ summer tan hadn’t reached.

Lucas shifted the tiniest bit, asking with a hint of uncertainty in his voice, “Eliott? Everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah. Everything perfect. Just… you know… thinking about how I’ll do this,” he finished vaguely, stupidly.

“Didn’t you say you tried this already with a bunch of people?”, Lucas asked.

“Uh, yeah, of course,” Eliott replied, mentally slapping himself.

He gingerly knelt to Lucas’ left, his knees near Lucas’ waist, almost touching.

His breath hitched.

Get yourself together, Eliott, he hissed silently at himself. If you almost lose it over your knees being close enough to feel the warmth of Lucas’ skin, what are you going to do when you actually touch him, huh?

He lifted his hands cautiously, trying to figure out where to place them.

He got lost again, staring at the expanse of golden skin before him. Lucas moved again, just a centimeter, but the muscles on his shoulders rolled with the movement, and Eliott’s tongue felt drier than the desert all of a sudden. Lucas was immaculate. His skin was tanned from all the swimming and lounging around the pool he had done over summer, dotted with moles, covering supple muscles. Lucas was strong but limber, his waist and hips slender. Eliott tried to swallow, but his parched tongue wouldn’t cooperate, and what came out was a pathetic cough.

“Eliott?”, Lucas’ voice came again, a bit alarmed. His face was turned away from Eliott, for which Eliott sent up a small prayer of thanks. He wasn’t sure he could do this with Lucas’ eyes on him.

Hell, he wasn’t sure he could do this, like, at all.

Why, why, why didn’t he pressure Idriss into doing this?

His hands hovered over Lucas’ back, his shoulder blades, his spine.

He could feel Lucas’ warmth under his fingers as he debated where to start, where to place his palms.

He inched closer, almost touching.

Then he suddenly remembered.

“Shit!”

He jerked his hands back.

Lucas turned his head, surprised by Eliott’s outburst.

“What? What’s up?”

Eliott blushed fervently.

“Fuck, nothing, I just forgot the oil.”

Lucas stared at him for a long beat, then chuckled.

“Master massage therapist here, people.”

He turned his head back and laid it back on his arms in the same position as before, while Eliott clumsily stood up to go get the small bottle. He poured some in his hands as he knelt back next to Lucas.

The lavender smell filled the small room, and both Eliott and Lucas inhaled deeply.

Eliott rubbed his palms together, warming up the oil.

Finally, ever so slowly, Eliott put his hands on Lucas’ skin. He placed them delicately on Lucas’ deltoids, relishing the texture, the softness of the flesh. He felt a shiver rippling through Lucas.

“Fuck, too cold?”, he asked nervously, almost letting go.

“No…”, Lucas whispered, “It’s okay, go on.”

Easier said than done, Eliott thought, as he let his hands slide softly over the curve of Lucas’ shoulders, up towards his neck, barely putting any pressure on there for the time being.

Lucas’ skin was warm and smooth, and Eliott had to bite back a moan.

He lifted his palms and let his fingertips follow Lucas’ spine downwards, spreading out towards Lucas’ sides over his laterals. He put the heels of his hands down and applied a bit of pressure, while his fingers slipped to Lucas’ sides. He moved upwards again, his fingertips trailing over Lucas’ waist and sides, while keeping the pressure on his laterals and deltoids with his hand palms.

Lucas shifted slightly.

“Am I hurting you?”, Eliott asked breathlessly.

“No…”, Lucas said again. “It feels… good.”

Lucas sounded a bit out of breath too, Eliott thought, before he focused once more on Lucas’ skin.

He started to work the muscles a bit deeper now, applying some more pressure, the oil allowing his hands to slide easily over Lucas’ slick body. Eliott kneaded Lucas’ shoulders, his deltoids, working them over rhythmically. Occasionally he let his hands wander a bit over Lucas’ biceps, trailing back via his sides. His fingertips carefully traced each and every vertebra while walking upwards again, back to their position around Lucas’ shoulder blades.

Lucas moved a bit under his hands, and Eliott had to concentrate on the techniques he learned. He thought he felt some tension in Lucas’ shoulders, so he focused his efforts on those. He changed it up a little, started making circular movements with his thumbs, fixed on the soft spots between Lucas’ shoulder blades and his spine. He started small, and then made the circles gradually larger. Lucas stilled, and the tension seemed to seep away from his body, so Eliott doubled down. He balled his hands to fists and dug his knuckles deep in Lucas’ back. He slid them up and down, following Lucas’ trapezius muscles. Lucas let out a soft breath.

Eliott flattened his hands again, the heels on Lucas’ sides, rubbing in regular patterns on his laterals with his thumbs. He slid down, feeling the curves of Lucas’ body, until his hands rested just below Lucas’ waist, his thumbs now working on Lucas’ obliques.

Lucas reacted softly, almost inaudibly, but Eliott was so engrossed in him he caught it anyway. It was intoxicating somehow, to be touching Lucas and listening to Lucas’ sounds of pleasure.

He crossed his arms, letting his right hand work on Lucas’ left shoulder and vice versa for a while, repeating all his movements from before in the same slow, steady rhythm.

He had no idea how long he had been doing this, but Lucas’ soft grunts only spurred him on more. He could continue this for hours. Days, if necessary. Just his hands all over Lucas’ body, Lucas’ even calm breaths, the way his fingers followed every muscle almost as if they had mapped Lucas’ body, the scent of lavender enveloping them, but not enough to mask the smell of Lucas’ citrusy soap.

He wanted to get even deeper, really work out every knot, get Lucas to feel as relaxed as possible. He started leaning on his arms, using his forearms and elbows to hit the pressure points he had learned about while watching video after video on the subject. Lucas moaned softly. Eliott looked over at him. His eyes were closed and his mouth was slightly open, his lips plump. God, Eliott wanted to change the camera position to where it would only film a close up of Lucas’ face like this. He’d be watching that footage every day for the rest of his life if he could.

He looked straight into the camera. He wondered what was visible on his own face, in his eyes. He should talk, tell his viewers what he was doing, but he was afraid he’d only wax poetic about Lucas if he tried to speak. He scraped his throat, should make some effort at least, but he gave up when Lucas let out a huff of air. He resolved to record some voice overs later.

He continued in a repetitive pattern – shoulder blades, laterals, deltoids, switching between deep, rough motions and featherlight touches of his fingertips. It was almost as if he was caressing Lucas, he thought, feeling his heart drum against his ribs.

He wanted to use some more force, but the position he was in made that difficult.

Suddenly, he swung one leg over Lucas’ waist and straddled him.

Lucas’ eyes flew open and he lifted his head.

“What – what are you doing?”, he said, gasping.

Eliott swallowed. He’d moved without thinking, just wanting to get into a position where he could use his full strength, but now he realized he was sitting on Lucas’ ass, his knees firmly pressed into Lucas’ sides, his long legs pressed snugly against Lucas’ hips and thighs.

“I just… wanted to… it’s easier to divide the pressure more evenly like this…”, he stammered.

Lucas seemed to struggle for air for a moment, but then he lied down again, as if resigned, and mumbled for Eliott to continue.

Eliott obeyed, and let his hands follow the lines of Lucas’ muscles again. He closed his eyes. It was as if his fingers knew where to go, as if they had learned the planes and angles and dips and valleys of Lucas’ torso by heart. Eliott knew he would relive this moment in his dreams – touching Lucas, finally touching Lucas, after all those years of admiring from afar. He’d remember how the supple but strong flesh felt under his hands, how it moved when Eliott pushed and grabbed at it.

He let his hands slip further and further down, reaching the edge of Lucas’ glutes. His fingertips burned as he slowly, deliberately pushed them further down, to that thin line of untanned skin.

He should stop here, he knew.

But he didn’t want to.

Lucas was here, half-naked, pliant under him, and damn if Eliott didn’t want to go as far as Lucas would allow him.

His fingertips brushed against the waistband of Lucas’ boxers.

Lucas’ didn’t immediately react, and Eliott kept his touch light, caressing Lucas, then putting some pressure on the muscles. He was not really massaging anymore, but he wanted to keep the presumption up as long as possible.

Lucas’ breathing had sped up, and he was keening louder now, and faster.

Eliott had all but forgotten he was supposed to be giving out a back rub for his YouTube channel. He was lost in the moment, fixated on the sounds Lucas’ made, the heat coming off his skin.

He felt his body react to the situation – the sounds, the scents, the touches, Lucas’ proximity. It all became a swirling mass of emotions rushing to his head. His heart started hammering in a wild staccato and the last rational thoughts left his brain as his fingertips slipped under Lucas’ waistband.

There was no way Lucas was still thinking this was part of a regular massage. Any moment now he’d jump up and call Eliott out. But nothing of the sort happened. Lucas remained on the pillows, his eyes closed, his mouth open. His hands were flexing, his fingers gripping into the pillow.

All pretension of a massage was now gone. Eliott stroked his fingers over Lucas’ back, his sides, his hips, and then he boldly pulled Lucas’ boxers down quite a bit to let his hands roam over his ass. Lucas whimpered but still made no move to stop Eliott.

“Lucas?”, he whispered uncertainly. Lucas didn’t react, just kept fisting the pillows by his head, shifting his body minutely.

And fuck it. Eliott knew it was wrong and he was risking losing his best friend, but he couldn’t restrain himself any longer.

He bent over and kissed Lucas’ shoulder blade.

He waited.

Lucas opened his eyes, and turned his face just enough to be able to see Eliott’s face, hovering over him.

“Eliott? What – what are you doing?”

“Kissing you.”

Lucas’ breathing sped up even more, but he didn’t move. Eliott though his heart stopped while he was waiting for Lucas’ reaction.

“Why?”, he finally asked.

Now or never, Eliott thought.

“Because I want to. I have wanted to for so long. And I want to do a lot more, if you let me.”

Lucas’ eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t try to get away from Eliott.

Then, he started wriggling under Eliott’s hold, until he’d managed to turn over to lie on his back, facing Eliott.

Eliott put his hands flat on Lucas’ chest.

“Okay,” Lucas whispered.

“Okay?”

If he had died and gone to heaven, Eliott wouldn’t have been surprised. Lucas was lying underneath him, anchored by Eliott’s legs, looking up at Eliott, his eyes blue as the ocean, his lips wet and full, his skin accessible to Eliott’s hungry hands and greedy lips.

Lucas nodded.

“I have been wanting you to kiss me, too.”

Eliott lied down on top of Lucas and everything slotted together – their legs entangled, their fingers intertwined above their heads, and their lips fit as if they were made for it.

It was only after they had thoroughly explored every part of each other they realized the camera was still running.

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to point out any errors.
> 
> Also, leave me a comment if you like. I need all the fuzzy feelings I can get.
> 
> <3


End file.
